ly, we succeeded in getting within a hundred yards
before I let go with my .405, the soft-nosed bullet tearing a great
hole in the turtle's neck and dyeing the water scarlet. Almost before
the sound of the shot had died away one of the Filipino boat's crew
went overboard with a rope, which he attempted to attach to the monster
before it could sink to the bottom, but the turtle, though desperately
wounded, was still very much alive, giving the sailor a blow on his
head with its flapper which all but knocked him senseless. By the time
we had hauled the man into the boat the turtle had disappeared into the
depths.

Waiting until darkness had fallen, we sent parties of sailors, armed
with electric torches, along the beach in both directions with orders
to follow the tracks made by the turtles in crossing the sand, and to
notify us by firing a revolver when they located one. We did not have
long to wait before we heard the signal agreed upon, and, picking up
the heavy camera, we plunged across the sands to where the sailors were
awaiting us in the edge of the bush. While the bluejackets cut off the
retreat of the hissing, snapping monster, Hawkinson set up his camera
and, when all was ready, some one touched off a flare, illuminating
the beach and jungle as though the search-light of a warship had been
turned upon them. In this manner we obtained a series of
motion-pictures which are, I believe, from the zoological standpoint,
unique. Before leaving the island we killed two tortoises for food for
the crew--enough to keep them in turtle soup for a month. The larger,
which I shot with a revolver, weighed slightly over five hundred pounds
and lived for several days with three .45 caliber bullets in its
brain-pan. Everything considered, it was a very interesting expedition.
The only person who did not enjoy it was the old Chinese who held the
concession for collecting the turtle-eggs. Instead of recognizing the
great value of the service we were rendering to science, he acted as
though we were robbing his hen-roost. He had a sordid mind.

CHAPTER III

"WHERE THERE AIN'T NO TEN COMMANDMENTS"

Until I went to British North Borneo I had considered the British the
best colonial administrators in the world. And, generally speaking, I
hold to that opinion. But what I saw and heard in that remote and
neglected corner of the Empire disclosed a state of affairs which I had
not dreamed could exist in any land over which flies